


Leaving the Nest

by coffeegleek



Series: Empty Nest Verse [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dystopia, F/M, Fanart, Homeless Blaine Anderson, Homeless Kurt Hummel, M/M, Science Fiction, all the parent feels, mild mention of eating disorders, not your typical hybrid story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20971985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeegleek/pseuds/coffeegleek
Summary: A sequel to Burt’s Nest and Rebuilding the Nest that tells of what happens to Kurt and Blaine from Burt’s perspective. It is by far not their entire lives, but it does provide some happy endings.Less graphic than the previous fics. The main TWs would be for mild mentions of eating disorders and mentions of Kurt's previous incarceration. See each chapter for additional notes.





	1. Time Flies

\----

Burt wished he could say that the day Kurt came home from the clinic appointment and had put on his Canada T-shirt and declared that he was finally home was the day that all of his son’s problems were finally solved and that the kid never felt unsafe or out of control ever again. But there were setbacks, just as he knew there would be. There were times Kurt fought with Finn, fought with him, fought with Carole. He had even fought with Blaine, broken up with Blaine, slept on the back porch for a month, and then had a very loud and enthusiastic day of making up. He and Carole had decided that night was a perfect time to go to dinner and then a movie and then a trip to the grocery store. 

* * * * *

Kurt attending the hybrid homeschool co-op had been rough at first. Another thing he, Carole, Kurt, and Miss Pillsbury had expected. His son had been quiet, wary, and brandished his sarcastic wit like a shield in opposition to Blaine’s warm and welcoming enthusiasm. It took him awhile, but he eventually made friends. 

There was Elliott, a former Millie & Marley’s employee home on summer break from a performing arts school in Ontario. There was Adam, whom Kurt flirted and made out with when he and Blaine had broken up. There was Eli, whom Blaine had flirted and made out with during the break up, and whom understandably stopped being Kurt’s friend. Of all of them, Burt liked Marley, the sweet daughter of Millie and whom he’d met before at the clinic’s shindig, the best. 

Blaine more-so than Kurt had made friends with Jake, the younger brother of Finn’s friend Puck, whom Kurt had spent time with at the Reformatory. He wasn’t exactly sure if Blaine called Kitty a friend, but did know his son’s opinion on what a horrible nickname it was for a hybrid, even if she was using it ironically. 

Rory was an exchange student who had gotten screwed by the new government regulations. Instead of being allowed to go back to his family in Ireland, he was stuck with his host family in legal limbo. The fear of being put into the system and either funneled to the Reformatory or one of the border’s internment camps for foreign asylum seekers was as real as it had been for Kurt and many other hybrid children in the U.S.

Lastly, there were the McCarthy twins. The ones whom the ditzy girl at the party had mistaken Kurt and Blaine for. Blaine liked them, but Kurt found them too intense. Honestly, he couldn’t blame the kid for that one. 

Burt was proud of himself for remembering all of the boys’ friends names and relationships to each other. Finn’s tumultuous high school years full of friend and girlfriend drama had prepared him well. 

Friends aside, the co-op and getting to know the ins and outs of Millie & Marley’s opened up a whole new world for his son. Always interested in fashion and having strong opinions on the poor design of hybrid clothing, he could now explore such in more detail than simply pouring over magazines, articles, and TV shows with Blaine. He took an art class, then another, and then another. Burt dug out Elizabeth’s old sewing machine and Carole drove Kurt and Blaine to a hybrid friendly fabric store in Columbus. It was clearly Blaine’s trust fund that had paid for all the fabric and notions they brought back and not the $100 limit he and his wife had agreed upon. It wasn’t long before Kurt was making clothing not just for himself and Blaine, but for the store under the moniker K.H. Designs. Kurt had shown him the small K.H. he would hand sew onto a hidden part of each garment, just as he had sewn on his real initials when he’d been forced to make Dalton Academy uniforms. It was his way of proving to the world that he was still here and hadn’t been broken. The act made him so damn proud of his son.

It took months of therapy before Kurt was able to join the homeschool’s glee club. It was the Journey songs that had triggered him at first. Then realizing that one of the members had been at the Reformatory when his beanie slipped off his head. Kurt hadn’t known the kid, but Blaine had. The boy had been caught after running away from Dalton Academy and locked up before his rich grandfather could intervene. In time, Kurt was able to see the choir as a safe place and not relate it the choir the guard and Commandant at the Reformatory ran. Remembering that his mom had loved to sing helped, even if it was a happy-sad memory. Kurt had a great voice and he and Carole made sure to make it to every single one of the choir’s performances. 

Burt and Carole both made time to teach the co-op kids and any of the parents that had wanted to join in the lessons. Never knowing who you could trust and often not being able to afford those you could, mechanical and medical skills had become increasingly valuable and needed within the hybrid community. For lessons he couldn’t teach at the warehouse/school, he would open his shop up early or brought the students in after it had closed. A few of them had some real talent and Burt knew he’d be hiring any who chose to stay in Lima. The clinic started its own internship and training program after Carole had asked if she could bring her students around. A few other businesses followed suit and those that didn’t at least donated a little money and supplies. 

* * * * *

Then there were birthdays. The first Kurt had celebrated since he was six years old, Burt freely admitted that he and Carole had gone completely overboard on the decorations, presents, and sheer volume of pizza, cheesecake, and cupcakes. Kurt of course, felt exactly the opposite. 

Now that they knew when Blaine’s birthday was, they celebrated it in style too and then left for a movie same as they had for Kurt’s. The boys having their own bedroom hadn’t mattered in the end. It was clear what was going on in the tent and noise cancelling headphones and DVDs played at a loud volume could only do so much. 

* * * * *

There was the day that Miss Mercedes Jones was having a good day and had made a visit with Doctor Jones. Burt was sure he was going to lose Carole that day. The visit had been suggested a week before, but the exact day had depended upon Miss Jones being up for it. Burt swore the house had never been cleaned faster and yet still Carole fretted. And then nearly died from trying to contain her excitement. 

Miss Jones admired the house, gushing over the sweetness of the new framed family photos and praised Kurt on the souffle', patte’, and petit fours he’d made for the occasion, swearing that it was all too much and how she was just a simple Ohio gal who loved her tots and homemade brownies. Even though it was hard to walk up the stairs even with the help of her daughter, she had insisted on seeing Kurt and Blaine’s room. Then told the boys how classic their taste was.

Burt knew the room check wasn’t just out of politeness. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her nor Doctor Jones. With all that Kurt and Blaine had been through, they wanted to make sure the kids truly were safe and well cared for. 

Kurt had been over to Miss Jones’s house a number of times before then, keeping his promise to her to continue taking care of her yard, sidewalk, and driveway. Either he, Carole, or Sam would drive him over and pick him up when he was done. Kurt seemed to take comfort in the routine and paying back the singer’s kindness. No longer forced to eat the woman’s chocolate-based baked goods and offerings, he would bring them home for himself and Carole. 

* * * * *

Burt remembered the day that Kurt had asked to be driven to the roller skating rink in order to give a large baggie of chocolate chip cookies to a friend. He’d come back to the truck wiping away tears he was embarrassed to have.

“It’s okay, Dad. These are happy tears. April’s moved on to New York City. She married rich and has a one woman show now. It’s a good thing. She made it out. If it wasn’t for April, I never would have survived past the first week here. She deserves this.”

“Then I’m happy for you both, Son. Anyone else you want to see today?”

“No, I think I’m good. Can we go home?”

“Always, Bud.”

“At least you won’t have to worry about me bringing home bottles of booze that I got in trade from her anymore.”

“I never worried about that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Fine. Maybe a little.”

Burt smiled at the laugh they shared and then wiped at his own eyes. He wasn’t ashamed of his tears nor of thanking the April woman in his head. If it hadn’t been for her, Tina, Miss Jones, and the other people who had helped Kurt out along the way, he wouldn’t have gotten to have him as a son. 

* * * * *

There had been another emotionally conflicting time when Burt brought Kurt along to drive Finn back to college so that he could see his friends from the Reformatory. Burt sat awkwardly in the apartment’s small living room playing with the couple’s blonde-furred little girl, at first bouncing her on his knee until the looks her parents kept casting his way made him realize what they were worried about. He helped little Beth with her plastic train set after that, making sure to not touch her in any way.

“Burt’s safe. You can trust him, Quinn.”

“Humans aren’t safe, Kurt. You know that as well as we do.”

“You’re friends with Finn.”

“We watch him around Beth too.”

“Fair enough. Finn said you cleaned pools, Puck?”

“The college gig isn’t bad, but it’s the local MILFs who love me. Can’t get enough of the Puckster. As long as I keep it in my pants and they keep tipping, Quinn doesn’t mind.”

“That’s good. Um, what you do, Quinn?”

“OSU is letting me sit in on some legal studies classes in exchange for custodial work.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’s not what I had planned for my life, but I also hadn’t planned on my dad disowning me and sending me to the Reformatory when he found out I wasn’t a virgin anymore. It is what it is.”

Burt watched as Kurt nodded his head and tried his best to continue with the small talk. It was strained all around and Burt wasn’t surprised when they left after only an hour; Kurt claiming that he had to get back in time for his shift at the auto shop. He had a feeling the kid wouldn’t be coming back. 

* * * * *

Unsure if it would be welcome or upset his son if there were no results, Burt, Carole, Anne, Dani, and Blaine had secretly scoured the web for any trace of Kurt’s mom. Since Kurt wasn’t a hundred percent certain of when his birthday was, his mother’s full name, what town he had been born and lived in, nor exactly when he had been arrested, and only knowing that he was six years old at the time, they started the search in 2004 and worked their way back. Each took a different town. Blaine volunteered for Westerville since he knew it best. Burt himself took Lima, Lima Heights, and North Lima because all would come up in the same search. Carole chose Elida because she’d grown up there, Delphos because it was where her parents were from, and Cairo because her grandparents had once had a farm there. Anne and Dani chose Allen County as a whole in case it had been an Allen County sheriff and not a town’s police officer that had arrested Kurt and his mom. 

Burt would never forget the day when he came across the truth, sitting in his office, eating lunch, and deciding to spend it doing research instead of worrying about the messed up inventory spreadsheet. What he found wasn’t much, but at the time it felt like everything. In the police blotter column of the local paper there had been a few lines.  
_  
June 24, 2001: A hybrid woman, Elizabeth Elizabeth, age 24, of Lima Heights, was arrested for shoplifting at the Kroger’s on West Elm Street. Her unnamed six year old son was with her and turned over to the Department of Child Services. It is expected that charges of shoplifting will be filed on him as well. _

It wasn’t until months later that Anne was able to figure out what had become of Kurt’s mom. It was a social media post on Tumblr about hybrid women who had died while in police custody. The post hadn’t gotten much traction - only a few reblogs and likes and then nothing. The original poster deactivating their account a couple of years later. 

While none of them could find out where his mom had been buried, they did discover that those who couldn’t afford private burial, the homeless, local prisoners, and any unclaimed bodies were buried in mass graves at a pauper’s cemetery a few towns over. Kurt was too afraid to visit the area by himself, too afraid of getting caught in case prisoners from one of the penitentiaries came to dig more graves like he’d seen on an episode of _Law & Order_ and which seemed plausible according to the online research he’d done. 

So while Kurt, with Blaine at his side, hid in the truck, watching under the cover of a blanket and large hoodies, he and Carole laid flowers upon one of the older looking graves and told Elizabeth that her son was safe now and forever loved. There was more he had wanted to say, but the words got choked up in his throat. Without her, he wouldn’t have Kurt as a son, but it wasn’t fair that she had her kid ripped away from her and never got to see him grow up. Carole read the note Kurt had written to his mom out loud. By the end of it, they were both a mess of tears. With a final promise to protect her son, they made their way back to the truck. 

Burt knew he would never forget that day either. 

They couldn’t find any of Kurt’s relatives on the latest incarnation of Facebook. Elizabeth was such a common first name that it made searching for it as a last name frustrating. Eventually, Kurt told them it was okay to stop, saying that you couldn’t miss what you never expected to have and he much preferred his real relatives - his parents, his Aunts Anne and Dani, his brother, and the Canadian ones he’d made up. He enjoyed having horrible fake relatives who kept passing him on from one to the other until he wound up in the States. 

Given how many times Kurt had repeated and improved upon the story, he knew the kid was most proud of his long lost great great great grandfather three times removed that had been a famous designer in “The Old Country” before making his way across the Atlantic Ocean to settle in Canada in search of a better life. A life which he ended up making for himself in Toronto where he lived with his secret husband, pretend wife who was his husband’s sister, their two children, and a labrador retriever named after the future Queen. The Queen he would one day make elegant gowns and hats for. 

Burt had hugged Kurt tightly after the declaration that his favorite relatives were right there in the room with him, telling the boy that he would always be his real son, no fake genealogy about it. True to both of their personalities, they celebrated the moment with take out burgers, fries, onion rings, and cheesecake.


	2. The Search Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University names have been changed in completely recognizable ways with the exception of one because it honestly didn’t matter. What’s written here is not a reflection on the real schools. (In other words, please don’t sue me.) University Tour BINGO is a game my son & I made up and the number of schools our family toured were actually more than Burt and Carole did. Unlike Burt, I actually won the side bet. TW: for a mention of eating disorders.

\----

“Hi, my name is Betty Pillsbury and I’ll be your tour guide today. Since our group is small, why don’t you all introduce yourselves and say where you’re from and what interested you about the Ontario School of Creative Arts? Aside from the fact that you’ll get to tell people you went to the OSCARS!”

Burt gave the guide the laugh that was expected, then waited patiently for his turn to speak. He’d lost count of how many college tours he’d been on over the years. First with Finn, now for Kurt and Blaine. University not college. Canada was real big about that distinction. Carole was on video chat with Kurt and Blaine, trying to be discreet about the matter. Not every tour guide had tolerated being filmed. That is, when they could actually get a strong enough signal to transmit. 

“Hi, I’m Burt and this is my wife Carole. We’re from the States. Our son broke his leg and couldn’t be with us today. So we’re doing this tour on our own and taking lots of pictures. He hasn’t decided on a major yet, but is leaning towards costume design. He’s got a real nice voice too.”

“Welcome, Burt and Carole. I’m sorry that your son didn’t feel he’d be able to get around. We are a fully accessible campus and that includes every class, classroom, rehearsal space, dorm, recreation, sports, and dining facility. If he’d like to come on a future tour, he should feel free to. As for his undetermined major, one of the perks about OSCARS is that in your first year you’re required to take a class from each of five distinct disciplines. This allows you to experience fields and artistic pursuits you may never have considered before. And later on, if you don’t see a major or minor that exactly suits your needs, you can always create your own.” 

“Thank you. I’ll let him know.” 

Burt looked down at the sheet of papers on the clipboard he carried and checked off the “create your own major” square on his University Tour BINGO card. He had ten dollars Canadian riding on this game with a chance to win two more if he won the side bet of how many books were in the library. At first he’d been opposed to Kurt and Carole’s idea of the game, but after the second tour in U.S. with five more in his future in this country, he’d caved. It made the monotony less boring. The only problem was keeping his son quiet when he scored a space or got BINGO while the tour was still going on.

The space marked, he tried his best to pay attention to the other families’ introductions. There was a hybrid couple and their eager daughter, but Burt dismissed them as a family to pay attention to when they said they were from Ontario and the father asked if the dorm room floors were separated by gender. It got him only another square on his BINGO card. They all had the “over protective parent doesn’t want their daughter having sex instead of facing the reality that she might have already, likely will in college, and not necessarily with boys” space. Usually that question didn’t come up until the residence hall was shown. 

At his wife’s nudge, he listened to the other hybrid family. They were from New York state, already had in their application to become permanent residents, and their oldest son was applying to universities. Burt didn’t want to make assumptions, but he was pretty sure the kid was gay or maybe bi or pan. With luck, the parents and their son would ask the questions he and Carole wanted to. And if not, their tour guide was a hybrid and wearing a Bi Pride button. That alone was reassuring. Still, he had his list that, as a family, they’d come up with.

1\. Was the school safe for hybrids and gay kids?  
2\. Was the surrounding area and town in general safe?  
3\. What were the protocols when an incident happened?  
4\. Was there an active LGBTQIA+ club on campus?  
5\. Was there an active hybrid club?  
6\. What was the reality for those students? Not the answer the school wanted you to give, but the actual truth.

Their BINGO cards had a space for “straight, white, human tour guide saying ‘I have a gay/hybrid friend and they never experienced any problems’ that sadly always got filled. Clearly it wouldn’t happen this tour, but it was still up in the air if their tour guide was joined by a friend or another student doing tours.

The list was on top of the BINGO cards and the reason he and Carole had made the twelve day trip in person. All the viewbooks, brochures, and online videos couldn’t tell you the realities of a campus. They’d learned that doing college tours with Finn. With Kurt, and for the most part Blaine as well, the stakes were higher to help the boys pick a school that would be a good fit academically and keep them safe. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts again at the sound of their guide’s voice. “Well, now that introductions are over, let’s get on with the tour, shall we? Before we enter June Dolloway Hall, which is currently undergoing renovations thanks to the generous benefactor who funded the building, let us pay tribute to the illustrious Carmen Tibideaux, one of our founding mothers. At first students would kiss Miss Tibideaux’s cheek, but after the numerous mono outbreaks, they now just sing to her before any audition, performance, or review for luck. It’s just one of the many fun traditions you’ll find here at OSCARS!”

As Burt checked off three more squares on his BINGO card, he wondered if this Carmen Tibideaux was the same one that NYADA touted. A whole trip to New York City so Kurt could fulfill a dream of visiting the Big Apple and both boys could tour some colleges, and the school had felt like a total scam. The professors were mostly washed up hazbeens and he was pretty sure that Finn’s girlfriend had harassed her way in. For a place with such large classrooms, their admittance rate was oddly low. Even Juilliard accepted more than twenty students per year. Kurt and Blaine had wanted to see the place for themselves, and despite his misgivings, he’d agreed to it. He couldn’t follow all of their comments, but there had been a lot of whispers about the various scandals the professors and alleged donors had been involved in. Both he and Carole were secretly relieved when the boys had crossed the school off their lists.

As the tour of the university he was at now wore on, Burt was able to take the silent thrill of achieving BINGO first, though sadly not the side book bet. He couldn’t help but be impressed by OSCARS. It wasn’t a large campus, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in diversity and a solid use of the spaces. Even better, they had a deal with the University of Waterford. Many of the general education classes were either taught there or by professors who did and all credits would be applied towards a degree at U of W should an OSCARS student decide to pursue a different academic path. There was even support in getting appropriate certifications for the more mechanical fields given that the school offered majors in the behind the scenes trades such as set design and lighting. 

The newly built residence hall was nice. Tall and a bit imposing to look at, but modern with spacious elevators, the largest wardrobes and bureaus they’d seen at any school, and the largest double occupancy rooms as well. All of the bathrooms were gender inclusive with doors that locked on both the showers and toilet stalls. Washrooms, not bathrooms - another Canadianism Burt knew he was going to have to get used to. Whatever they were called, it was another mark in the plus column. Kurt’s flashbacks and panic attacks were fewer now, but they still happened, and showers continued to be a trigger for him. Kurt having to live in a dorm was the thing he and Carole were worried about the most. There was no way they could afford for Kurt to rent an apartment and didn’t feel it would be right to accept Blaine’s offer of paying for it all by himself with his trust fund.

The dining options looked good too and all the ingredients were listed clearly with symbols for vegan, hybrid safe, gluten free, peanut and tree nut free, low calorie, low fat, halal, kosher, and a few Burt didn’t recognize but his wife seemed happily surprised about. Prominently hung on a main wall was a poster for the school’s eating disorder support center. Given the careers Kurt and Blaine were hoping for, they’d be surrounded by such pressures and people. He and Carole could only hope that the pamphlets and tools the boys had learned in therapy from Miss Pillsbury would help them here and they wouldn’t need the place. Still, he wasn’t naive enough to pretend that Kurt’s need to control a part of his life when things got to be too much couldn’t lead to an increase in behaviors. That the school openly acknowledged the need for disordered eating counseling and support services was another plus in his book. All the others had merely given it lip service or didn’t offer any at all. Of course what was on paper, or poster in this case, was often different than reality. Either he or Carole would have to ask about such in private, after the tour or a time when they could get the young lady aside for a minute.

“If there’s not a group you see, you can always start one of your own!” 

Burt couldn’t help but sigh at the line as he checked off the space. He was already working towards his second BINGO. Finn had learned just how difficult starting a new club was at college and had warned Blaine he might not fare so well getting a superheros club going no matter where he went. The kid was determined to though as he missed the one he’d founded at Dalton Academy and co-ran for years. 

At least the school had an active LGBTQIA+ club. Betty stressed such as she showed off the wall of flyers in the student center. It was Carole who spotted a leaflet for hybrids and another that included all marginalized races and populations. Kurt’s home studies and talks with Dani and Anne had educated him on the fact that Canada’s history wasn’t as untainted as their squeaky clean reputation made them appear to be.

During a short break, Burt huddled around Carole’s phone. “Hey, Bud, you and Blaine have any questions we haven’t asked yet?”

“I wish you could have measured the dorm room.”

“Wasn’t time to. We can try to do that later if you decide to go here.”

“You mean if we get in. Can you ask more about the audition process for international students?”

“You want me to ask the guide if you can chat directly with her?”

“You wouldn’t mind? I really like this place. Blaine does too.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willing. Or your mom in this case. I need a quick break to use the facilities while I have the chance.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem, Kiddo. Here’s your mom back.” Burt gave a quick wave which he was sure wasn’t seen as Carole moved away to get their guide’s attention. He headed to the washroom, did his business, and exited, nodding to the U.S. based hybrid parents lingering on the edges of the loose group.

Deciding it was now or never, he approached them with a smile. “Is this your first tour?”

It was the husband of the couple who spoke first, his polo shirt and khakis resembling his wife’s in style if not color. “Fourth. You?”

“Second in Canada, but we did a couple of U.S. schools even though my son prefers this country. It’s safer, you know? With my oldest, human, son, I think my wife and I toured six.”

“Oh, so your son thinking about this school is…”

Burt held back his sigh. It was far from the first time he’d gotten the question and honestly, it could mean anything these days. “Adopted and a hybrid. His mom died when he was real little and we took him in. Great kid. What schools did you look at? We did University of Waterford yesterday. Willard Lawrence is tomorrow. I think the University of Brockton at Niagara Falls is on Thursday. No, make that Wednesday. Yorkshire is Thursday, and we’re going to try and squeeze in the University of Toronto before we have to head back.”

“That’s a lot.”

Burt shook his head. “You have no idea. If it wasn’t for my sister and her wife tackling a few of these before we came, we’d probably be up at Thurston University in Peterborough and figuring out how to hit up a couple in the capital. My son was hoping for that fancy arts school in Vancouver, but it’s even more expensive and further away than this place.” 

“Tell me about it. Our son has dreams of being discovered during pilot season, but his dad and I have jobs waiting in Toronto so we told him he could be just as discovered there as in Vancouver. Does your son have dreams of the stage and screen too?”

Burt didn’t mind that the woman hadn’t remembered what he’d said during his introduction. He always tried to pay close attention, but most didn’t stick with him. “His boyfriend does. My kid is leaning more towards behind the scenes stuff like costume design. He’s got a real knack for it.” He knew he shouldn’t out Kurt and Blaine, but this being the kind of school it was and his need to see just how alike this family was to his own won out on proper protocol.

The couple’s wife spoke next. Neither had offered their name and Burt was fine with that. This wasn’t his first rushed conversation on a college tour and he’d likely never see these people again. “That’s nice. You can’t go wrong with the University of Toronto. Toronto has a rather large LGBTQIA+ community and their Pride festival is simply amazing. U of T is expensive and finding housing is hard from what we heard. Yorkshire was nice and has more housing options, but it didn’t feel as academically challenging nor performance driven as the other schools.”

After a quick look at her husband for the okay, she continued. “Willard Lawrence? Take it as you will, but if you want a break and a chance to check out the area instead, it may be a tour you can skip. There are rumors that it’s not as...welcoming...as it seems.”

“What kind of rumors?” This is what Burt and Carole had been after; the information tour guides wouldn’t say. 

“Administration not listening to the minorities. Telling them one thing and doing the opposite when the students and faculty bring up problems. It’s known as a party school too. Not that OSCARS doesn’t get wild, or so my son says the show choir and art schools blogs say.” 

“My son and his boyfriend are on those too, I think. I can’t keep track these days with all the college talk on top of everything else.” Burt wanted to ask more, but their tour guide was calling the group back together. He thanked the couple for their help and headed back over to Carole. They would have a lot to catch the other up on when the tour was over. 

Doing it over beer and authentic Canadian poutine sounded perfect right now. His head was a swirling mess of too much information and too many worries and the feeling that this school might very well become his son’s new home. As the group was herded into the bookstore, he smiled when he spotted a display table full of collegiate wear and a hybrid mannequin decked out in the same. Getting to be a dad who proudly wore an OSCARS cap with an OSU T-shirt sounded damn near perfect.


	3. Letting Go

\----

Burt entered his son’s room expecting to see the ever-changing collage of colored Post It notes Kurt had been placing on his things ever since his and Blaine’s OSCARS acceptance letters had arrived in the mail three weeks ago. It was all the boys could talk about - what they should bring with them, what they could buy there, what their classes would require, even if their dorm room would have curtains or blinds and what would work best with the drab wall color. Now instead of the stickers on his son’s things, he found them piled in the trash. 

“Kurt, what’s up? Did you change your mind again about what you wanted to pack or are you going with a new color-coding system? I think we got some smiley face ones in the kitchen junk drawer if that would help.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…”

Burt watched as his son took a deep breath and removed the blue sticky notes from a stack of books. The kid would talk when he was ready.

"I'm scared, Dad."

"Oh, thank god."

"You're glad that I'm scared?"

"No. Not exactly. Being scared means you're taking this seriously. You and Blaine have been so excited about leaving that I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about the dangers and adjusting to a new place of it all." Burt said nothing about the glare his son sent his way, nor the annoyed tapping of his tail.

"I'm always aware of the dangers. I just don't like to dwell on them all the time. Wasn't that what two years of therapy was supposed to help me with?"

Burt took off his cap and scrubbed at his face and head. “I’m not saying that. I’m just sayin’ that I want you to be excited. You should be! You worked hard to get into that school. I’m just glad your head’s coming out of the clouds a bit. When you go away, everything is going to be different and it’ll change you in ways you won’t even realize in the moment. It’s a big step and it’s not just going to be sewing classes and parties and hoping you get the lead in the musical.”

“That’s not what’s bothering me.”

Burt sat down on the edge of the bed, remaining as silent as before. Patience had always been the key with his son. Even Miss Pillsbury’s pamphlets had said so. This time Kurt’s fiddling with the Post Its didn’t last long and with a furtive glance to judge his parent’s mood, he confessed his feelings. 

"I'm scared you're going to forget about me. That when I'm in Canada, you're going to be relieved that I'm gone and not causing you any more trouble."

"Since when have you caused me any trouble?" Burt laughed at his son's snort of disbelief. "When have you caused any trouble lately?"

"Mom didn't tell you about my latest exam at the clinic? The one I needed for my school's health center paperwork?"

"How you were naked the entire time? That's not so much trouble for us, as you being you and flippin' off the doctors one last time. I didn't expect anything different. Did you do something aside from that I need to be worried about?"

"No."

"Well, then, try to keep the public displays of nudity to a minimum at that new school of yours. You've made enough doctors and medical staff question their choice of profession already." Burt put his hand on his son's shoulder when he sat down beside him. "As for that other thing you’re scared about? You're always going to be our son, Kurt. We're your family and we’re always going to love you. That's never going to change. But if you've changed your mind and don't want to go to school so far away, that's fine. We'll keep hiding you here and you can go to school online or another place or keep working at the shop and on your sewing business. Whatever you want."

"It's not safe here. That's why I'm leaving."

"Canada isn't perfect, Kiddo, and we've talked about the dangers of crossing the border with your fake passport and ID."

"That scares me too. I can’t change my past and who I am or how Blaine and I look, and we know the government isn’t going to change fast enough to not make that matter anymore. Blaine and I have a chance at real life there. We don’t really have a choice not to go."

"I know you love Blaine. You two have been together for a long time, had each other's backs, and been through hell. But he's his own person and so are you. What do _you _want?"

"I want to go, but I also don't want to leave you, Dad. It hasn't been long enough. It's too soon for me to."

Burt pulled his kid in for a hug. "You don’t think I’m not going to miss you too? I already do. I love you, Kurt, and your mom and I are always going to be there for you. We’re going to visit you as often as we can. Finn too if you’re willing to put up with him. And your aunts will be there looking out for you. We can Skype or Facetime or Messenger video chat as much as you want. But if you really don't want to go, no one is going to force you."

"But you've already spent so much money on the documents and application fees. And I know how much the tuition, dorm, and school fees are."

"I'd gladly spend even more, Kurt. This is your life, not mine. I can't make the decision for you. Just know that I'll support you either way."

"Can I think about it?"

"Sure, Bud."

"Can we have pizza for dinner?"

"We had pizza last night."

"But they might not have good pizza in Canada."

"Nice try, Bud." Burt hugged Kurt again. He was going to miss his son when he was gone. Taking him in had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made. Not that there ever was any other choice as far as he was concerned. 

* * * * *

Carole found him in the kitchen ten minutes later, pursuing the stack of take out menus. "Kurt told you he changed his mind again, didn't he?"

"The kid is just scared. He leaves next month. It's to be expected."

"I think he might be manipulating us with that now."

Burt let out a small laugh. "Let me guess, he asked you to get pizza too?"

"No!" Carole caved to her husband's knowing look with a groan. "Chinese and after the clinic visit it was burgers. It's the eyes, Burt! The sad eyes with the face and the, 'I love you, Mom. I'll miss you so much, Mom.' He doesn’t use Carole Mom anymore either." She crossed her arms and gave a pointed stare at the stack of menus in her husband's hand. "Tell me that you were actually dejunking the junk drawer and not contemplating caving to him too."

Burt pulled out the menu from Lima Chin’s Asian Cuisine. "He want his usual?"

"With extra fried wontons and the ingredients for cheesecake if we're going to Meijers for milk. Apparently, packing burns a lot of calories and he was a tad underweight at his examination."

"Anything to worry about? We're not going to have the Boost fight all over again are we?"

"If I was worried, I would have told you. He's going through a growth spurt."

"Do we need milk?"

"Yes, but not today. I'll cave, but only so far. The cheesecake can wait. We should have learned our lesson from Finn."

"They're our boys. Will Blaine be home for dinner?"

"He's over at Sam's having a last bro gaming night. I think I got that right."

"Write down what you want and I'll call in the order. While I'm out, I'll pick out more beer too. We're going to need it to get through this."

"I'm going to miss him, Burt."

Burt pulled his wife in close for a hug. "I know, Sweetheart. Me too." 

He hugged his wife tighter. It wasn’t fair. Two and a half years wasn’t long enough to have his son in his life. Canada was too far away. The kid hadn’t even left yet and already he missed him so much it hurt. Immigrating at his age would be next to impossible, but he and Carole had discussed trying anyway once Finn was done with grad school. And if not, at least being a straight white human male meant he was a full citizen and could visit any time they could afford to make the trip. 

* * * * *

“One last check-up and then you’re done, Kurt.”

“Unless they find something. And they always find something.”

Burt adjusted his cap and gave as an apologetic look as he could to his son sitting on the edge of the examination table. “I’m real sorry about the garage and those boxes of stuff falling on you. I should have cleaned it out years ago.”

“Did you really need that much weed killer and fertilizer? It made sleeping in there impossible.”

“Only when I forget that I bought it already.”

“You’re getting old.”

“Already there, Kiddo.” Burt liked that he could make his son laugh. Clinic visits were always hard, even ones like these where Kurt got to keep his undergarments on and didn’t feel the need to be Naked Guy. “You know that garage is where I realized that you were probably hanging around our house and definitely not that stray cat your mom likes to feed.”

“It was?”

“You left a pair of pants in there once and next time I looked, they were gone.” 

Kurt shrugged. “It was a safe place to dry my clothes. Even if it did make them smell, they didn’t get stolen.”

“Then I’m glad it was there for you. Sorry about the chemicals and mess though.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re old.”

Their shared laugh was dimmed by the return of Doctor Jones. “Your X-rays came back negative, Kurt. No broken bones in your foot or tail and no damage to your shoulder except for that scrape. You’re bruised, but not broken. I think you know the drill by now. Ice, elevation, rest, crutches for a week, and using a sling for your tail couldn’t hurt.”

“How many follow-ups?”

“None unless you think you or your mom thinks you need one.”

“Thank god. What about my paperwork? Will it keep me from going to Canada?”

“It’s already been filled out and sent in. You are cleared to go. Because of your _situation_, you can’t use the National Health Care System, but a fund has been set up with the school should you need any medical or mental health services.”

Burt watched as Kurt picked at the paper on the exam table and gave the doctor a long, disbelieving look. “On top of the Mercedes Jones Scholarship for Artistically Inclined Hybrid Students that I didn’t apply for yet mysteriously got? It’s highly suspicious.”

“If you didn’t deserve it, you wouldn’t have been awarded it.”

Kurt looked down in embarrassment and gathered the words he knew he needed to say before looking back up at the doctor. “Thank you. I still hate this place, but thank you. You didn’t have to do it. I never expected anything from Mercedes. I helped her because she was always nice to me. I don’t want to take advantage of her. Or you.”

“You’re not taking advantage of anyone, Kurt. You had your childhood taken away from you. You deserve to live the rest of your life as you choose. Live it well.”

“All I did was take care of your mom’s yard.”

“We’ve been over this, Kurt. It was more than that.”

“Will she be okay while I’m gone?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good. I’m going to miss her. Tell her Roderick went on a trip, but he’ll be home soon and he’ll bring her the chocolates she likes. That seems to help best when she doesn’t think I’m him and realizes he’s not around.”

The doctor pulled back the hand she had started to touch Kurt with in support and put it in her pocket instead. “I will. Have a good life, Kurt. Keep in touch. You too, Burt.”

“You’re not getting rid of Carole and I that easily. Volunteering here is the least we can do. If that EMT van gives you trouble again, bring it by the shop.”

“You’re a good man, Burt Hummel. Now go on you two and take your eavesdropping Blaine with you before I send you all home with a case of Boost. Dame Kennington mixed the vanilla run-offs with liver again.”

Kurt slid off the table and grabbed for his bag of clothes. “I told you this place was evil, Dad!”


	4. The Crossing

\----

Burt returned upstairs from depositing his and Carole’s luggage in the living room and knocked on his son’s bedroom door before entering. The place looked so different now than it had just a week ago. Most of the posters of Broadway shows and actors and singers were gone. Blaine’s favorite of Bryan Ferry remained. He didn’t know if that had been a mistake and would have to text the kid to see if he wanted him to bring it. The walls had changed color so many times over the years that Burt could barely remember what color they used to be. He remembered the boys’ arguments over colors and themes though. “Anything but gray, green, and orange” was always a part of Kurt’s demands, which was understandable given where he’d lived before. Personally, he thought each transformation looked nice including the “subtle yet tasteful” pale French butter something or other that was on the walls now. The deep navy duvet remained on the bed, one of many sacrifices the boys had made when choosing what to pack. 

Two large duffle bags, a knapsack, and a messenger bag laid upon the neatly made bed. His son, looking so forlorn standing beside it all holding a clipboard, checkmarks filled in on nearly all the lines of the list clipped to it. 

Burt held a similar clipboard. “You almost ready, Bud?”

“I don’t want to go, Dad.”

“I know. I don’t want you to go either.”

“I’m going to miss you and I’m never going to get to come back home.”

Burt laid a hand on his son’s shoulder, offering what comfort he could, as his kid wiped at his tears. “We’re going to come to you. I promise. And we’ll bring up the rest of your stuff and see as many plays you’re in or that you’ve done costumes for and as often in-between as we can. ‘Cause not for a single minute am I not going to miss you too. I love you so much, Kurt.”

“Blaine’s already left, so I have to go, don’t I?”

“Blaine’s trip isn’t as dangerous. The choice to go or stay has always been yours alone to make. It’s your life and you’re going to do amazing things with it no matter which way you choose.”

“Which is why I have to go. I’m tired of being scared all the time here. Not here, here.”

“Even when it’s when it’s my turn to cook?”

“Okay, maybe those times.”

Burt was glad he could get a small smile out of his son. Today would be the most nerve wracking and terrifying day that any of them had experienced in years. They were going to cross the border and Kurt’s forged passport would either pass or he would be arrested. He was eighteen now. If he was sent to a U.S. prison, his life would be hell. A Canadian one would be only slightly better. The chance of him getting accepted as a refuge in imminent danger were slim given that Canada was still friends with the U.S. How any country could be, he honestly didn’t know. The new wall the president was building across the northern border was as ridiculous and unnecessary as it was expensive.

Burt pulled himself out of his wandering thoughts and focused back on the matters at hand. “Were you able to pack the first aid kit your mom gave you?”

“It’s huge. She knows they have Band Aids and ACE bandages in Waterford, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the only control she has in all of this. It lets her get her mom needs and nerves out.”

“I know.”

“Want me to put it in my suitcase?”

“No, the lists have already been made to hand to the border guard. Aunt Anne said they probably wouldn’t want them nor check our bags, but since they had her moving van, it couldn’t hurt.”

“They didn’t check your mom’s and mine when we crossed at Niagara Falls to do your college tour.”

“You were posing as an old couple on their second honeymoon. I wouldn’t want to rifle through your bags either.”

Burt didn’t bother holding back his laughter. The poor kid had accidentally opened more than one of his and Carole’s packages from Santana & Brittany’s Sensual Skin Care. It’s what he got from not reading return address labels and being nosy. There were so many ways his kid had brought laughter into his life. So many things he was going to miss about him. But the sun was already rising and they had to get to on the road. “You almost done? You’re mom’s car is already loaded and there’s room for a few extra things. The house is all set. It’s just up to you now, Bud. Are you going or staying?”

Kurt took a deep breath. “Just give me a few more minutes to finish packing and I’ll be ready.”

“I love you, Kurt. I always will and I’m never going to stop being your dad.”

“I love you too.” 

Burt embraced his son in a long hug before letting go. It wasn’t going to be the last hug with Kurt either. He’d make sure of that.

* * * * *

“I wonder if they feed you bad poutine in Canadian prison. Or maybe they don’t let you have it at all. That would probably be worse. Because you know, poutine.”

“You’re not going to prison, Kurt.”

“You don’t know that.”

Burt let out a long sigh and checked out the array of vehicles in the rearview mirror before replying. “No, I don’t. Not for sure. We paid a lot of money for your passport. Anne and Dani said it was better that we didn’t know the details, but I have a feeling it’s tied into someone whose death was never reported. And I’m pretty sure there’s more than one person on the inside of a couple of government agencies who handle personal data and forms. It should get you through the border.”

“And if not?”

“Then we have the number of a lawyer and your mom behind us and Anne and Dani waiting near the border.” Burt understood why Kurt needed to go over this again despite the fact that they all had it memorized by now. Hell, they even had that lawyer’s number written in permanent marker on their arms in case they were handcuffed and their wallets confiscated. The kid was terrified and rightly so. He also needed a distraction. “Do you want to listen to some music? Or maybe make a stop to get you something different to eat? You haven’t touched your Egg McMuffin. There’s those carob cookies you like too.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Well, if you change your mind and need to pull over, just ask.”

“I will. You didn’t eat your Egg McMuffin either.”

“The coffee isn’t sitting too well with me.”

“You shouldn’t have bought it from McDonald’s. You should have brewed the Tims you brought back from Canada.”

“I know. I’ll remember that for next time.” Burt didn’t know if he should let the kid lasp back into silence or try to keep him talking. He was scared too. He’d be an idiot if he wasn’t. He glanced at the map on his phone. The route was simple, just a few major highways, the majority of it on the same road which merely changed names. They were making good time. Of course they’d also left at 6 a.m., so there was that. “We should be at the Akron Tim Hortons in about twenty minutes.”

“I still think it’s wrong for there to be Tims in Ohio. It’s _Ohio_.”

“Yeah, I know, but we gotta take a bathroom break somewhere and this allows me to get donuts without your mom having to pretend she doesn’t know I eat them at work and worry about my cholesterol.”

“I never told Mom you’d let me buy donuts.”

“Partners have their ways of always knowing, Kurt.” 

“I’m going to miss working at the garage.”

“I’m going to miss you working with me too. We made a great team, Bud.”

Burt let the conversation drop away and tried to keep his eyes and thoughts on the road. It was a foggy morning, the dreariness fitting the mood. If he thought too much about all the great times he’d had with his son at the shop and all the future ones he was going to miss out on, he was going to lose it. 

* * * * *

“How are you holding up, Honey?”

“I’m fine.”

Burt watched his wife give their son another hug and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder when she pulled away. “Let’s go get you some decent coffee and a couple of donuts.”

“Vanilla latte and the sugar covered and honey glazed donuts.”

“You got it, Bud. Carole?”

“Ooh, see if they still have the caramel latte with the whipped cream on top and blueberry donuts. If not, the maple glazed are fine.”

“Your usual if they don’t have the caramel thing?”

“I think I’ll go with Kurt’s choice if that’s the case.”

Burt ran the order through his head so he wouldn’t forget. “Got it.” He was relieved to see that the store’s door was the same as the last time he and Carole had gone there. They’d picked each rest stop carefully based upon their prior trip to Ontario, online reviews, and google maps. Tim Horton’s remained welcoming to all, or at least neutral - unlike the local Long John Silvers and one of the gas stations down the road which had “no furs allowed” signs taped to their doors. An odd thing for such a diverse city, but not all that uncommon in general. 

He ordered for his family while they used the restroom and when the order was ready, took the tray to a quiet table in the back corner. While waiting for his own turn to use the facilities, he thought of the route ahead. They had at least three more hours to go until their final rest stop. Rush hour had begun, and combined with the construction on I-90-East the GPS mapping app had warned him about, the period of making decent time was over.

Carole and Kurt had their phones and lists out when he returned from relieving himself. The short time alone helping to relieving some of the tension in his body he’d been holding in. A long sip of his cup of black coffee and first bite of his cruller was helping too. Kurt was right. There really was something about a decent cup of coffee that helped to start a day off right.

They talked as quietly as they could, stopping or switching the topic to a mundane one the minute anyone walked too close, writing down their words or pointing to things on their phones or clipboards when even whispers were too risky. Burt knew some folks might think it was being overly-cautious and too paranoid, but as his son had said, this was Ohio. His family knew all too well what would happen to Kurt if some stranger got suspicious and called the cops. During the later stages of working everything out, it had been decided that even though it was risky, it made more sense to go over the plans here than at their next rest stop closer to the border where an overheard phrase about crossing would be noticed. Either way wasn’t perfect, but it was a gamble they had to take.

“Burt, I let Anne know where were are.”

“I already did it with Blaine.”

“That’s good. How’s he doing, Son?”

“Good. Relieved. Thrilled that he didn’t have any problems at the station getting his final student visa papers. I think it helped that Cooper was in full Cooper Mode.”

“He handed out autographs didn’t he?” Carole asked the question before Burt could.

“And took selfies with the agents. Just like we expected and hoped for. I can’t believe that his last movie won a Canadian Screen Award for best motion picture, but I can’t say I’m not grateful.”

“You and me both, Honey.”

“What did Cooper go with, Kurt? Brother, son, or protege?” Cooper wasn’t perfect, but Burt couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for the guy not turning on his brother and doing what he could to help him. It was clumsy and not always what the kid needed at the time, but his heart was in the right place. 

“Little brother protege wanting to follow in his big famous brother’s footsteps.” Kurt reacted to his parent’s pursed lips and raised eyebrow. “Blaine didn’t like it either, Mom, but it worked. He’s hoping the guards will forget his name and where he’s going to school over the excitement of meeting Cooper. Blaine made sure he was well out of range of any pictures. Not that you’re supposed to take them in a government building, but maybe Canada is different.” 

Lists were checked over again and the plans run quickly through one more time. The place was starting to get more business and it was time to get going. 

Carole would continue to be the follow car, ready to pull over once she crossed the border and call Anne and the lawyer should he and Kurt be detained. She had a whole thing about going to a medical conference in Toronto and looking forward to attending a seminar about "post concussive traumatic brain injury and long term rehabilitation and cognitive therapy in relation to high impact sports." Burt thought he got that right. He knew it was about brain injuries in hockey players because Canadians were obsessed with the protection and recovery of their goalies. The debate on whether or not Carole would actually sign up for the conference was short. It was Kurt that was in the most danger and the expense wasn’t needed. She was just a “chatty nurse excited to visit Toronto for the first time and meet up with friends in the field.”

As for himself and Kurt, figuring that out had taken far longer. They may have had the same surname, but they were different races and their passports had different countries of origin. _He’d _be suspicious of them. After brainstorming every scenario from him wearing prosthetics so he looked half hybrid to Kurt wrapped in bandages so he looked less so, they decided to stick closer to the truth of what they’d been telling folks for the past two years and what it said on Kurt’s forged papers. The kid was adopted. Only this time, his adopted mom was also a Canadian citizen. She’d died only last year which is why she wasn’t traveling with them. Her race would depend upon how they read the guard’s words and body language. Kurt’s multiple family origin stories had helped with those parts. 

Kurt had also carefully selected everyone’s clothes to be ordinary, appropriate to the situation, and nothing that would be too memorable. To his son, that meant Carole would be in her “professional traveling clothes” which looked just like her regular clothes of nice slacks and a floral blouse with a navy cardigan, and “sensible shoes” - the brown flats. Burt didn’t protest being told to wear his favorite flannel shirt, OSU T-shirt, OSCARS cap, jeans, and work boots. It was what he would have chosen anyway, if he was being honest. Kurt had on black cargo pants, a black with gold lettering OSCARS hoodie over a gray long sleeved T-shirt, a black beanie to make sure his clipped ear was securely covered, and his second-favorite pair of boots. Burt had never been one for fashion, but with his wife and son making sure that everyone remembered what each of them were wearing in case they needed to give a report to lawyers or the authorities, he’d had no choice. It wasn’t a bad precaution to take.

Kurt lamenting to Blaine that wearing cargo pants would mean a longer pat-down, but as it was nothing compared to the full body cavity search and disinfectant shower that would precede his incarceration, the number of pockets didn’t matter - that was the thing Burt would always remember most about son’s choice of clothing. The knowledge of what had happened to his son still gave him nightmares and was the driving force behind getting him to a safer country.

Burt looked at his watch. They’d taken longer at the donut shop than they’d planned. “I know we’re all nervous, but I think we got this. Kurt, if you’ve changed your mind, we can turn around and go back home.”

“No, I’m fine. We can proceed. I need to go to the bathroom again.”

“Not a problem.” Burt watched his son leave before turning to his wife. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s scared. Not that I blame him. I also think he’ll be fine. One way or the other, he’ll hold it together. Kurt’s a fighter and he’s come a long way since we took him in.”

“How do you think it’ll go?”

“I honestly don’t know, Burt. That’s what scares me the most. Everything hinges on that one thing.”

“Me too.” Burt hugged his wife tightly and held back his tears. This wasn’t the place for such things. They’d said too much already in public already and as Kurt loved to say, _it was Ohio_. 

“Is everything okay, Dad?”

“Yeah, Bud. Just huggin’ your mom ‘cause a woman like that deserves all of them.” Burt accepted the disbelieving smirk. The kid never did miss much. 

With one last check around their table to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, they left the shop and headed onward.

* * * * *

The Tim Hortons in Blasdell, New York was only eleven miles from the Peace Bridge crossing in Buffalo, NY. This was the last rest stop. The last chance for hugs and “I love you’s,” and the last chance for Kurt to change his mind. 

His son remained strong and determined to go. “I need a chance at a freer life. Succeed or fail, at least I tried. I can’t turn back now no matter how scared I am. We Hummels don’t give up, right? Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sorry I was such a pain.”

“You were never a pain. You were only our son, Kurt.”

“Yes, I was, but it’s nice of you to pretend I wasn’t. I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Son.”

“I want in on the hug! I will always love you, my sweet Kurt.” Carole embraced her son, wishing she never had to let go.

“I love you too, Mom.”

Burt didn’t want to let go, but knew it had to be done. “Okay, Bud, you need another cup of coffee and another donut or are you ready to go?”

Kurt took in a deep and nervous breath. “Can I pee first?”

* * * * *

It took longer than the map app’s predicted eighteen minutes to reach the border crossing, but they’d expected that. Burt let out a long, slow breath and tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel. Signs of tension would only make him look guilty. “I’m going to use Lane 1. Text your mom.”

“Already on it. I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Son. We got this. We’re Hummels.”

“Yes, we are.”

Burt shared a small smile with his boy. He couldn’t think of the hell that might be coming, only the better option. He had to. He got in line and took the open passports Kurt handed him. The university acceptance letter, housing agreement, and proof of payment of tuition and room and board as a Canadian citizen at the ready in his son’s lap. 

“Mom’s three cars behind us in Lane 2.”

Burt didn’t doubt his son, but he looked in the rearview mirror just the same. His wife was his rock. She was also culpable in a crime the same as he was. Just because Carole wasn’t in the same vehicle and was acting as their backup, didn’t mean she wouldn’t be arrested at a later date. They were in this together. 

This was it. It was their turn. Burt rolled down the front and back windows and handed over their passports. He tried his best to smile pleasantly as the border guard slid each ID into a scanner and asked his questions.

“Is this trip for business or pleasure?”

“I’m taking my son to Waterford. He got accepted into the Ontario School of Creative Arts.”

“How long will you be here?”

“A week to help him get settled in, buy what he needs - a mini fridge. Things like that.”

“Where will you be staying?”

“With my sister-in-law in Kitchener. The dorms open up on Saturday.”

“Why there?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why a university in Canada?”

“Honestly? The exchange rate makes tuition a lot cheaper.”

“Hockey! I miss hockey. I’m sorry, Dad, but I do! I know it’s a good school and tuition is cheaper than in the States, but I can’t even get a decent game going. I was the centre on my school team. Now I can’t even watch the Spengler Cup. I had to see Ebbett score against Switzerland on U-Vid. On my phone.”

“Who’s your favorite team?”

“Is there really any other choice? I was born in Toronto. Go, Leafs!”

“Got to agree with you there. Okay, so, Sir, I need you to answer this with full honesty and note that to do so otherwise is a violation of the law. Why are your passports from different countries of origin?”

“My son’s adopted. My wife was his second cousin. She’s from a little town just outside of Toronto. Shellborn? Shellburne. That’s it! Kurt’s birth mom died when he was little. We took him in after another relative couldn’t take care of him anymore.”

“Why is your wife not with you on this trip?”

“She died last year. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Thank you.”

“Anything to declare?”

“No, Sir.”

“Okay. You’re good to go. Have a good day.”

Burt accepted the passports back from the guard. “Thank you.”

Burt drove silently on, past the cameras, past the sensors he couldn’t see, and past the inspection plaza. At the toll booth, he paid the fare, the exact amount of Canadian currency at the ready, hoping it wasn’t too odd given how they also accepted U.S. bills.

It wasn’t until he and Kurt were well away from the Peace Bridge and multiple kilometers down the QEW that he turned to his son. “Hockey? You damn near gave me a heart attack, Kurt! Since when do you know about hockey?”

“I’ve been studying. Finn and Blaine were tutoring me. It worked.”

Burt tried to shake off his nervous energy. He should have known Kurt would have something up his sleeve. “Yeah, it did. You would have made a good center. You’ve got the build and attitude for it.”

“That’s what Blaine said.”

“You see your mom?”

“No, I lost track of her at the border crossing.”

“Any texts on your phone?” Out of the corner of his eye, Burt watched Kurt check.

“The number five. She made it through and saw that we did too. We’re good to go.” 

He didn’t hold back reaching out to son to press a loving pat to his shoulder. “Yeah, we are. Welcome to your new home, Son. You’re safe now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a shout out of appreciation to redheadgleek and noteoughtogivebread for the medical condition, terminology, & conference help. 
> 
> Second, all hockey knowledge comes from Wikipedia. I used the 2017 Spengler Cup because it sounded more convincing than the World Championship as something that would be harder to catch on even Burt’s extensive cable package. 2017 is when they won it. It’s an AU, so we’ll just pretend this exact team didn’t until this fic’s time. 
> 
> Third, the border crossing is based off my own family’s experiences. My son doesn’t have a fake passport. However, he and my spouse being POC with very non-white names makes every crossing in and out of the U.S. a tense one. Legal citizens are being detained in the U.S. and deported to countries they don’t come from and have never been to. I built upon those fears and the precautions we take with every trip for this fic.


	5. Reunion

\----

Burt pulled into the main tourist-dedicated parking lot and paid the fee, trying not to be annoyed at the price. Here he had always thought Kings Island and Cedar Point charged a lot. It was nothing though compared to what even being here meant. After finding a spot and shutting off the engine, he turned to his son. “You okay, Bud? I thought you’d be happy and talkin’ a mile a minute now.”

Kurt unbuckled his seatbelt and slid further down in his seat, eyes darting back and forth at what could be seen through the front and side windows. “It’s not safe for us to be here, Dad. There could be cameras everywhere. We’re too close to the border station.” 

“You got through, Kurt. The passport worked. You’re going to be busy with school and adjusting to everything being new. It won’t be easy and it might even be scary at times. Your mom and I, we wanted to give you this. Can you trust us? If we didn’t think it was safe, we would have picked a different spot to meet up with her, your aunts, and Blaine.”

Kurt tugged on his knit cap, making certain it wouldn’t slip off and then pulled the hood of his hoodie as far forward as it would go. “Okay. I can do this. Is everyone here?”

Burt checked his phone again to see if anything had changed in the last few minutes. It hadn’t. “They’re already at the tourist center waiting at the entrance near the guardrails. Your mom just pulled in and will meet us there.”

“If I get arrested...”

“You won’t.”

“If I do, this better be worth it.”

“Trust me, Kiddo. It will.”

It didn’t take long to reach Dani, Anne, Blaine, and Carole. Burt joined his son in greeting their mixed family, then sidled up to his wife. Together they shared a knowing look and waited for the moment to happen. 

They watched as Blaine took Kurt’s hand and started leading him to the protective metal guardrails. Kurt hadn’t walked more than a few steps before he finally took in the scenery before him. He stopped in his tracks and gasped, staring in wonder at the sight of a rainbow arching above the curve of the massive, rushing waterfall. 

“Blaine, this is real, right? I’m not dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming, Kurt. You made it. We made it.”

Burt leaned into his wife’s embrace. She was right, like she always was. She had known just what Kurt needed to ground him. To give him a sense of time and place. To provide him with a break from the frantic pace of weeks of preparations and the gut wrench tension of the day. To let him have this chance to breathe and take it all in. 

All the videos and pictures in the world couldn’t do justice of seeing Niagara Falls in person. The sounds, smells, sight, and power of the water rushing over and down the rocky face couldn’t be duplicated. And maybe he was biased, but the Canadian side was the best. Seeing it together as a family was something they all needed. 

“Dad? I’m here. I’m really here. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Bud.” Burt scrubbed at his face, wiping away the tears that had fallen. There was nothing but joy, wonder, and hope pouring out of Kurt’s face. So much so that he was practically glowing with it. 

Burt looked out again upon the expanse before them. The Falls themselves couldn’t contain how much he was going to miss his son.


	6. Building the Nest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Target is a thriving business in this version of Canada because it’s my AU, and in it, the company didn’t fuck up their launch. Canadian Tire lovers, don’t hate me. I have been to a number of them in person. I am not Kurt. Happy reading. :)

\----

Burt couldn’t say that he wasn’t glad that his sister and her wife had moved from Toronto to Kitchener. He still wasn’t quite sure what Dani did for a living and always evaded when he asked. Whatever it was, she apparently could do it while living in an area where housing costs were a bit more affordable. Anne was commuting to Toronto a few days a week, which she wasn’t thrilled with, but swore was worth it in the end. Burt was just grateful that it made them closer to his son. Whether the kid wanted to admit it or not, he needed family around and someone he could turn to when things got rough. Blaine too.

His sister had the right of it their first night in Ontario, sitting around the living room eating pizza and drinking beer. Even the boys were given a bottle to share after a “nurse mom warning” from Carole to not drink more given the medications they were on. Kurt groaned as predicted, but Burt caught the slight smile he tried to hide. It was nice knowing his son still needed and wanted his mom’s parenting. Just as he appreciated his sister knowing that the whole family needed something to help them relax after such a harrowing day. Starting tomorrow, the rest of the week would be busy and emotionally draining as well. And that was even before he would have to say goodbye to his son. That he wasn’t ready for at all. 

Burt wasn’t quite sure what show was playing on the TV. Something about the FBI and an art thief. Blaine’s brother was in it and shirtless for no reason that he could fathom. Kurt and Carole seemed to be the only ones into it; his kid waiting until there was a commercial before talking.

“Aunt Anne and Dani, where should Blaine and I go for our dorm room linens? I know as a Canadian I should love Canadian Tire, but their website didn’t seem that great. Target looked the most promising. Not that I’ve ever been to one, but the Canadian version seems a lot better than the ones in the States and all the Walmarts.”

“Your research is correct, Dearest Nephew. There’s a nice little poutine place beside it. You’ll like it. Their vegetarian gravy is actually vegetarian and they even have vegan options if cashew cheese is your thing.”

Kurt scrunched up his face in disbelief. “I don’t think I could ever be a vegetarian or vegan voluntarily. We’re not made for it.”

“You might change your mind one day or have friends who are.”

“We ate there when we did your college tours, Kurt. You really can’t tell the difference in the gravy.”

“Okay, Mom. I mean, it’s only fair to Aunt Anne and Aunt Dani.” 

Burt liked that his son was quick to work it through and made the suggestion a little more palatable. “They have cheesecake, Bud.”

“I am so in!”

There were so many reasons Burt loved his sister-in-law and was grateful that she’d stuck around after Elizabeth had died. Getting his son to laugh for the first time in what felt like forever was now on the top of his list. 

* * * * *

Burt had thought Kurt and Blaine would be going hog wild buying up everything in the store given how much they had to leave behind. Yet the boys had bought only the basics - a few sets of sheets, two comforters, a small coffee maker, and a mini-fridge. If it hadn’t been for Carole insisting on adding undergarments, socks, pants, and shirts Kurt wouldn’t have had more than a week or two’s worth to his name. As they were nearing the registers, they passed the laundry detergent isle and realized that was an item they’d all forgotten to put on the list. 

* * * * *

The bank was next. Burt wanted to make sure that Kurt had access to money any time he needed it. To make it easy on them on all, and safer given that Kurt’s ID was forged, he set up the account in his name with Kurt on the account as a card holder. 

When the bank employee asked Burt how much he wanted to deposit, Kurt gasped at the amount. “$22,000 U.S.? Dad, that’s too much!”

“All those hours you worked in the shop? You earned it, Kiddo.”

“But I used it to buy books and food. I didn’t think I had more than a thousand left. Maybe two thousand at most.”

“You really think I was letting you pay for all that? You’re my son, Kurt. I knew you’d need it someday. Today’s that day. Just don’t go spending it all at once.”

“I won’t. I promise!”

“I know.”

“Thank you.” 

Burt laughed at the sly grin that followed the sentiment. Kurt was so his son.

“Can I have some of it now? I haven’t seen Canadian money since you adopted me. No offense, Dad, but our currency is prettier.”

“No offense taken. We’ll try out your card at the ATM before we leave and get you some. How’s that?”

“Sounds great.”

Burt was in awe of his son’s ability to casually include bits of his made up past when he was clearly holding back bouncing in his seat. It had worked at the border, at Niagara Falls when he was buying souvenirs at the gift shop, and was working now with the clerk handing them their new bank cards. His son would have made a great actor if he didn’t have to worry about hiding his identity from the world.

* * * * *

Loblaws was the complete opposite of Target. Despite the kid being full of poutine he was piling everything he could reach into the cart. Given his height, it wasn’t hard. Burt shared a look with his wife. Clearly suggesting that Kurt try Canada’s cane sugar sweetened Coke at lunch had been a bad idea. The kid was wired, as was his already-hyper boyfriend. 

“Kurt, you don’t need two giant cans of Tim Hortons coffee.”

“School is going to be hard. With all the long hours we’ll be putting in, we can’t afford to run out.”

“There’s two Tim’s on your campus, four on the University of Waterford, and another less than a block from your dorm. The chance of all of them running out of coffee at once is next to none.”

“What if there’s tariffs?”

“Then you’ll hear about them before they take affect.”

“One can then?”

“That sounds more reasonable.” Burt ignored the sulky look as his son put the coffee away. Not that $20 CN was going to make a difference to the total bill. Maybe he shouldn’t have let the kid know how much was going into his bank account.

“Can I get four boxes of Cock O’s?”

“As long as you never make me say the name and find out why the cereal isn’t called Rooster O’s here, sure.”

“Deal. Thanks, Dad!”

Burt knew he’d been making a trip to Walmart or Target later to get storage bins for the food. Kurt and Blaine both were showing signs of food insecurities and clearly falling back on behaviors that made them feel safe in a new and unknown situation. He’d only protested the coffee because there had to be some limits and the boys’ dining hall meal plans included getting coffee and snacks at the campus Tim Hortons. 

“Ooh, Blaine, they have the carob cookies we love! No more having to order them!”

“You get those, I’ll get the cream filled maple ones.”

“We should get some maple syrup.”

Burt was glad when Carole spoke up about that one. “Kurt, I’m sure they have syrup in the dining hall.”

“What if they run out? I can’t be Canadian if I don’t have a weekly fix of maple syrup.”

“Fine, we’ll get you a bottle. I think it’s in the next isle.” 

The one thing Burt knew his boys wouldn’t embrace “the Canadian way” was bagged milk. During one of Kurt’s meal time flashbacks, he’d said how the Reformatory got its milk in large plastic bags, and when he’d worked in the kitchen it had been his job to load them into the dispensary. The bags were often warm and the dispensers only rarely cleaned. By then he’d already known of Blaine aversion to dairy due to his time spent homeless and having to scrounge for food in dumpsters and garbage cans. As such, the boys only bought a few liter-sized boxes of shelf stable cow and quinoa milk. Portable with a long shelf life was always better in Kurt’s world. 

* * * * *

After the grocery store was the inevitable stop at Tim Hortons for donuts and coffee. Carole was the one who noticed they had customer loyalty cards and had both the boys sign up for one. She took a bet with him on how soon they’d both get a free cup of coffee. 

With Anne and Dani having to bail out after lunch in order to get some work time in and not expected home until late in the evening, they were on their own for dinner. After dropping off all their shopping bags and being thankful they’d taken the truck, Burt convinced the boys to listen to their mom and walk around campus a bit and then the outskirts to see what local restaurants there were.

Burt was ashamed to admit it, but he’d completely forgotten the boys had never seen the campus for themselves. He apologized as he parked the truck in the visitor's parking lot and got out. He was met by an embarrassed shrug.

“It’s okay, Dad. I forgot too. You and Mom and Aunt Anne took so much video that I’d forgotten I hadn’t been there either. Blaine got to see it when Cooper drove him up and told me all about it.” 

“I’m still sorry, Bud.”

“Can we visit the statue of Carmen Tibideaux first? Blaine swears she looks so life-like that the rumors might be true that she walks around if there’s a full moon during finals week.”

“Sure. Go on ahead and we’ll catch up. Text me if you go further. Not that we don’t trust you. It’s just that we’re tired.”

“And getting old.”

Burt laughed at his son’s teasing smirk. He was going to miss the thing they had between them so damn much.

* * * * *

Burt never thought he’d get tired of poutine so quickly, but the meat lovers piled high with every animal that moved and every animal’s milk that could be turned into a cheese curd did him in. He didn’t need his wife and cardiologist urging him to eat a vegetable. The feeling of his arteries closing up did it for him. Never had he craved salad and broccoli more than after that meal. A meal which his son happily finished for him.

* * * * *

The next morning brought with it a quick breakfast at Tim Hortons followed by a long line of traffic and frustration trying to find a place to park as every international student attending OSCARS was also moving in that day. And there were far more international students than any of them expected.

It was a flurry of finding out where the boys were to go to get their student IDs as the room had been changed at the last minute and it wasn’t in the same building they had checked into. Then it was walking to the residence hall to check in there and get their ID coded to the building and their shared dorm room. 

Burt stayed on the fringes of each area, letting the boys have their space. Kurt acted in the ways he expected. First staring around him in awe of the place, exchange a few quick whispers with Blaine, and then fall silent and stoic, his eyes darting around for any signs of danger. Though he had gotten better over time, large crowds full of strangers still bothered him. Blaine was the one that talked for them, exchanging pleasantries with those who would be their classmates. 

Carole had struck up a conversation with some parents they had met during one of the tours. People Burt honestly couldn’t say he remembered. There had been so many universities and so many faces. So many questions to get answers for. And so many hushed cheers from Kurt as he won yet another round of University Tour BINGO.

* * * * *

Eventually it was time to move the first truck load of the boys’ stuff up to their dorm room on the eighth floor. He agreed with his wife - thank god for elevators and energetic upper level students who assisted with the process. In next to no time the first load had been deposited, Kurt had measured the room and found his previous estimates based upon google image searches to be accurate, which meant he wouldn’t need to exchange the curtains for larger ones, and they were all heading back across campus to the student center for a quick bite to eat before the first orientation session was to start.

Burt put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and wished him good luck right before he left. It was the start of the goodbyes. The start of his son breaking away and living a life apart from him. That was good. That was okay. That was how it was supposed to be. He was just glad that it would only be for a few hours. He wasn’t ready to say a full goodbye yet.

“What do we do now, Carole?”

“Well, there’s two things we could do, both of which are embarrassing.”

“I’m listening.”

“One, go to the campus bookstore and buy those ‘OSCARS Mom’ and ‘OSCARS Dad’ T-shirts.”

“Sounds good.”

“Two, go to the health center and buy them a ton of condoms and lube while I arrange for their prescriptions to be transferred over.”

“This is why I love you so much.” Burt held out his hand for his wife to take. “Let’s buy the T-shirts first and put them on before we hit up the health center.”

“And that’s why I love you, Burt. Best father and husband ever.”

“We should have done this with Finn.”

“Who says I didn’t at least once and again when he went off to grad school?”

Burt laughed. He’d either forgotten or Carole hadn’t mentioned it. He couldn’t wait to hear her tell the story again.


	7. A New Nest

\----

It was time for The Big Sad Goodbye. The week of errands, orientation, signing up for classes, buying books, clothes, and dance shoes for those classes, trying out nearly every Tim Hortons, pizza, poutine, burgers, and fried fish place on and off campus, and making sure the boys knew the bus route to and from Anne and Dani’s house by heart, was over. 

The four of them were gathered in Kurt and Blaine’s dorm room. The bland cream-colored concrete walls and standard wood and metal dorm room furniture had been transformed on a budget as only his sons could. Tasteful tapestries hung on walls along with a plethora of candid photographs clipped to a string which stretched the length of one. The small cork board was already covered with notices of upcoming events, important dates, things to remember, and the boys’ class schedules. The two beds had been pushed together and covered with a thinner mattress and navy bedding similar to what they had left at home. Kurt had managed to find curtains that matched and “were on clearance for only $7.00 Canadian, Mom!” Their desks were on opposite sides of the room, though Burt knew they’d eventually come closer, same as they had at home. The wardrobes were filled with old and recently purchased clothes and space for new winter coats that Carole had insisted on giving the boys money for as Ontario winters were colder and longer than Ohio’s. The large mini-fridge and totes of food dominated one corner of the room, dishes and utensils stacked neatly on a small shelving unit. Bathrobes, damp from their morning showers, hung on the hooks on the back of the door. Their suitcases were tucked away under the combined bed and knapsacks were at the ready for the first day of classes that would start tomorrow. Either there wasn’t a bolt bag in sight, or Kurt had become more adept at hiding them.

Tomorrow he and Carole would be back in Ohio waking up to a silent house. No sounds of hushing and a squeaking bed. No brewed coffee waiting for him in the pot or signs that the latest hiding spot for his snacks had been found. No son wearing a Hummel Tires & Lube work shirt and pants, tired but eager to get to work on his friend’s car or Beiste’s truck. 

“Dad, you’re crying.”

Burt was pulled out of his thoughts and wiped away his tears, fighting to make them stop. “I’m going to miss you, Kurt. I am so proud of you and I love you so much.”

“It’s going to be okay, Dad. We can Facetime and I’ll send you a lot of pictures.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be telling you, Bud?”

“You needed to hear it more.”

“I guess I did.” Burt was grateful for his son’s words and hugs. 

“I’m going to miss you too. Thanks for being my dad.”

“Thank you for being my son.”

Looking back, that was all that Burt could remember from that morning aside from more hugs and goodbyes. His son and Blaine walking him and Carole down to the parking lot and then more hugs before it really was time to depart. Burt promised to see the boys again. Made them swear to let him and Carole know if there was anything they needed. 

He didn’t remember much of the long drive back, alone in his truck with only his thoughts and the GPS for company, following Carole in her car. They had stopped at Tim Hortons for lunch, but it had lost its appeal. It just wasn’t the same without Kurt raving about their coffee and honey-glazed donuts and complaining they were out of the sugared ones. 

When they were closer to home, they picked up Long John Silver’s for dinner. Like the donuts, Burt found he couldn’t eat more than a few bites. When Carole went to take a shower, he quietly went out back and gave his meal to the stray cat that had taken over Kurt’s old shelter. The cat his son had eventually tolerated and stopped scaring off. 

With a long sigh and more tears wiped away, Burt reentered the house. This was his life now. His nest was empty once again.


	8. Time Passes

\----

_some years later_

“Burt, come quick! Kurt’s commercial is on!”

Burt rushed from the kitchen to join Carole on the living room couch as she turned the volume up on the TV.

“In the town of Mistletoe there was a man with a secret who dreamed of finding his one true love.”

_“It is too much to dream for a man to love who will love me in return?”_

“And a lowly office assistant who wished upon a star for the same.” 

_“If it's okay with you, could I have a guy who will hold my hand as we walk through the park?”_

“Could these two strangers be the one the other is looking for? On December ninth tune in to Hallmark’s Movies & Mysteries Channel and find out if there really is _A Soulmate for Santa Claus_.”

Carole muted the TV once the ad was over. “Call Kurt! Let him know we saw it.”

Burt waited impatiently for the phone to be picked up. His kid was taking too long.

“Dad, is something wrong? Normally you text unless it’s Friday. Are you okay? Is Mom okay?”

Burt held in his sigh. All these years and some things never changed. “Nothing’s wrong. We just saw your Hallmark commercial, Kurt. You were amazing!”

“Dad, I’m only the voice over actor.”

“My son is on TV. There is nothing _only_ about that. Your mom and I are so damn proud of you. You found a way to make your mark on the world. Commercials, singing, those costumes you design. No one knows what you look like, but they know what you sound like and the art you put out into the world.”

“Thanks, Dad. It’s really not..”

“Don’t you say it’s nothing. Hummels aren’t nothing and neither is what you do. Tell Blaine he looked great as Santa Claus.”

“Technically, he’s Santa’s son in that movie.”

“Then tell Santa’s _son_ we’re proud of him too. Send us a link to that interview he did for that Canadian talk show promoting his movie.”

“I will. Love you, Dad, but I need to leave for the studio. Backing vocals wait for no one.”

“I love you too, Son. We’ll buy Cooper’s album when it comes out so we can hear you on it.” 

“That’s not necessary, but thank you. Bye, Dad.”

* * * * *

_a few years after that_

“Dad, how did you not kill me?”

“Kids driving you nuts again, Son?” 

“Alejandro is pickpocketing again and Casey has decided they’re now a vegan. A tree nut, peanut, and soy allergic, full race hybrid vegan. We kept our early evolutionary ability to eat raw and cooked meat for a reason! None of it makes sense unless they’re conspiring to drive Blaine and I insane.”

“I never got to raise you or Finn when you were nine, but I remember Finn being a handful at thirteen. Your mom says they’re the worst years. Just wait till they’re sixteen and decide to become nudists.”

“Oh, god, I hope not! Really, Dad, how did you not kill me?”

“Because you were worth hanging in there for. Just keep loving them, Kurt and making sure they know you love them and that you’re not going to stop no matter what. And also that they matter. It’s all you can do in the end.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Send them to Iceland.”

“Iceland doesn’t exist anymore.”

“My point exactly.” Burt laughed along with his son. His kid now had kids of his own, taken in from harsh conditions same as he was. “You want me to come over and give you a break?”

“No, but thanks for the offer. I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Son.”

Burt smiled as he hung up. Kurt had come so far in the intervening years. Done so many amazing things, big and small. Grown up from the scared homeless kid sleeping under his front porch who needed someone to love him and give him a chance. Now he had adopted kids of own, him and Blaine feeling there was no other choice but to repay the kindness they’d been given. His boys were married now, living in a house outside of Toronto, better than any his son had dreamed up as a teenager. 

Burt turned to the pictures that cluttered the mantel above the fireplace. The home he and Carole had made was empty, but it had been filled to the brim with new memories of an expanded family, a better nest, and more love than he’d ever dreamed of. It was a place where all who entered knew that they mattered and would be welcomed. Life couldn’t get any better than that. 

_~The End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have gone along with me for this ride. This small fic idea about being empty nesters that turned into this huge cathartic piece about the fears and worries of being the parent of a gay, POC son living in the U.S. in these increasingly dangerous times. 
> 
> This is all I have for now from Burt’s POV about what happens to their small, found family. There are a few things from Kurt’s POV that I hope to one day write. Mostly things being fleshed out and canon-similar things that happen in college such as Kurt being in a small college band or singing group. I have more ideas for Burt and Carole too, but didn’t want to put them into this fic or verse until I wrote Kurt’s version. 
> 
> The movie talked about in the first scene is the one in my Hallmark/Klaine Advent 2018 fic that I plan on putting into its own title, A Very Hallmark Christmas, without the unrelated first 2 chapters/one shots. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading. :)


	9. fan art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fanart to Leaving the Nest

** **

**Photo Credits:**

OSCARS graphic by the real Oscars

Lima to “Waterford” directions by google maps

Crocheted Canadian maple leaf with Pride flag by the amazingly talented margarita-sisters

Burt and Kurt screengrab by unknown

Burt and Kurt characters are the property of TPTB of Glee

All other pictures are my own


End file.
